


So Darling, Play Your Violin

by Godspeed_Cowboy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: BAMF Vanya Hargreeves, But Only a Little Bit - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Catch the mitski lyric refrences in this, Character Study, Gen, I couldn't find many vanya centric fics so I took matters into my own hands, I have Vanya brainrot as much as I have Sakura brainrot, I just like powerful women a lot, I just think she's neat, I think she has a bit of a god complex in this but I could be wrong, I wrote this real quick it's like 3 in the morning and I was bored, No Incest, Non-Graphic Violence, One Shot, POV Vanya Hargreeves, Sort Of, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, Vanya feeling resentful and rightfully so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25706311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godspeed_Cowboy/pseuds/Godspeed_Cowboy
Summary: Vanya plays her violin and thinks.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	So Darling, Play Your Violin

**Author's Note:**

> So! I really like the Umbrella Academy, and Vanya is one of my favorites, so I decided to write a fanfic about her. I got bored and it's like three in the morning here, so I whipped this up fast, so I don't think it's written that good. But! I thought y'all might like to see it! Enjoy!
> 
> Also, I have a twitter now, where you can follow for updates and stuff! My user is @YeehawMitski

The melody of her violin begins to echo around the theatre, backed up by the rest of the orchestra, as the crowd becomes silent when the curtains draw.

For a moment, one that lasts for all but a second, her eyes are closed, and all she does in that moment is _feel_. Feel like she’s never felt before, feel like she’s always wanted to. And _oh_ , how she _loves_ it, that feeling. 

The feeling of being _powerful_. 

Her eyes open again, to look at the long, long papers of sheet music, because this is her concert after all, and she’d do best not to make a fool of herself and mess up now. She’d already memorised the song, yes, but ‘better safe than sorry’ was a motto she’d always live by. Slowly, she starts to play a little harder, a little louder. This is her night and her night only and she wants to show off a little. 

(An invisible force rolls out of her, one that the crowd feels, makes them turn their heads and change their emotions.)

She can see the eyes of the crowd, their faces, how they change. They light up, eyes widening and mouths curling into open smiles and prideful and impressed chittering. 

One person catches her eye.

_Allison_.

She stands there in the isle, smiling, tears in her eyes. Their eyes meet, and it feels like time stops for just a second. 

_Vanya_ smiles back.

Their moment is broken when she hears a battle cry from behind her, and thundering footsteps rushing. 

_Luther_.

Footsteps, loud on the stage from in front of her, two people pushing past Allison.

_Diego_ , _Klaus_ , _Five_. 

No. _No_.

No, no, no.

NO!

They’re going to ruin _her_ concert, _her_ night! _Her_ night! Not theirs! Not theirs, not theirs, not _theirs_ -!

She stands with a force that pushes back her chair with a screech. A scowl on her face, she reaches down into herself and pulls for that feeling deep in her gut that’s always lurked there, and she violently whips the bow out.

Light, bright and blue and seering, comes forth in an arc, and the four men are pushed back, back, back, and the light goes as far as the crowd, as far as the exits-!

Why can’t they accept that they aren’t the center of attention for one night, that they aren’t the heroes? 

This. This is her time to shine, shine like she’s always wanted to, always dreamed off, brighter than the suns that are her siblings.

She isn’t the moon, she isn’t the stars, she’s something else entirely, something _bigger_.

The crowd screams and they run away. Whatever, she doesn’t need them to appreciate her. The orchestra tries to do the same. She turns around, forces them to sit back down and to _keep on playing_. _This_ is far more important.

At some point, there is gun fire, and blue light that isn’t her own (Ben? No, impossible . . . Ben?). She lets the orchestra leave at that point, she doesn’t need them anymore, she can make enough sound, enough _music_ , by _herself_. She swings her bow a few more times to keep her siblings from interrupting her solo. A few bullets stray her way, drawn in by an invisible gravity, into her orbit, as her siblings, no, the _Umbrella Academy_ , scramble to gather their bearings and take down whatever fools who fire them. They don’t even touch her, disintegrating into nothing the moment they brush her suit.

Her suit, her suit that slowly turns white, spreads it’s coloring to her violin. It’s a good color on her, she thinks. Makes her _literal_ glow all the more bright.

She feels invincible, untouchable, _powerful_.

Vanya Hargreeves is no more. 

In her place stands the White Violin. And she couldn’t think of anything better happening. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you'd like to see more TUA content! Comments and Kudos appriciated!


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